


lay it all on me

by lavenderet



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Confessions, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Sleepovers, goro and ren are best friends and roommates, ren's Bisexual Awakening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:35:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22905583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderet/pseuds/lavenderet
Summary: “Hey.” He points at the steadily-growing pile of blankets. “This is not normal.”A heavy sigh from Goro. “Have you seriously not figured it out yet?”Ren blinks at him. Blinks twice.“We’re having a sleepover.”Ren needs a moment to process this. “… In our living room?”“In our living room.”Or, Ren is going through another bad breakup and Goro attempts damage control via an impromptu sleepover. It works about half as much as was intended.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 43
Kudos: 401





	lay it all on me

**Author's Note:**

> i am BACK on my akeshu bullshit
> 
> i really wanted to write something where ren and goro already reconciled and were close friends still navigating their relationship.... which birthed this. i hope you enjoy it!!

Their relationship ends the same way his others did: without flourish, without so much as a warning or a goodbye. Ren is so accustomed to it that the sting hardly lasts, though he can’t help the swooping feeling of hopelessness, the knowledge that he failed yet again. He was so careful; he examined all his past relationships and improved where the others fell apart. They were already six months in, and still, still, it wasn’t enough. He was always lacking in _something_. 

Where did the fracture start? Did he bore her? Talk too much, too little? He once dated a girl who left because he studied more than he spoke to her, which annoyed her (it was entrance exam season, because of course it was). Another left because he seemed “aimless”, and it scared her. To this day, he doesn’t understand what she meant— his life always seemed perfectly clear-cut to him. 

Stewing in it won’t take him anywhere, so he relies on his legs, which will. He leaves his ex-girlfriend’s apartment, goes further still, deep into the center of Tokyo where familiar faces are less likely to confront him. There’s no purpose for these post-breakup walks, there never is— but they remind him how utterly small he is, how insignificant these things are. He once was the talk of Tokyo, once held the power to delve into the hearts of corrupted authority. Now he can’t even keep a girlfriend.

Ren groans, blowing into his hands for warmth. It’s getting chilly, and he misses home; his roommate shouldn’t be back for another hour, but making them both dinner will take Ren’s mind off of things. With that in mind, he heads for their apartment in Setagaya-ku, an urgency to his step.

“This one’s near Yongen-Jaya,” Goro told him, when they were first browsing for cheap lodgings two summers ago. “We won’t need to travel far for good curry. Or to see family, as it were.” 

_Family_. When Goro uses the word, Ren knows it’s serious. He smiles a little to himself, remembering how Goro blushed at the realization that he said it aloud. They’ve come a long way from murder attempts and bitter competition, though the latter still crops up in other (less hostile) fashions. Maybe a round of chess when Goro returns home will help lift his spirits. Or a co-op video game, even. He finds most things involving Goro do just the trick.

He stops by a konbini on the way there, picks out ingredients for okonomiyaki and a premade cheesecake for himself. As expected, the house is quiet and empty when he enters; Morgana is asleep on the windowsill, mugs and paperwork he assumes are Goro’s scattered over the coffee table. For a moment, Ren feels a pang of guilt— for being absent for so long, for wasting those last few days with a lost cause. He’ll make it up to Goro somehow. He’ll start with the okonomiyaki. 

While the pancakes are sizzling on the pan, his phone vibrates violently, nearly leaping off the counter in its zest. Ren’s mind is far away, his eyes on the okonomiyaki, but he musters enough strength to pick it up and answer the call. 

“Hello?” 

“Ren!” It’s Ann’s voice. “Hey, so. Your girlfriend just texted me.”

Oh. “Ex-girlfriend, now,” he says, poking absently at the okonomiyaki. 

“Yeah, I heard. Uh,” she smacks her lips, falling silent for a moment, “do you wanna talk? About this? Like, it’s kinda getting out-of-control, and I’m sick of always being the middleman.”

Tucking the phone between his ear and shoulder, Ren says, “I think I got the gist of it.”

“Ren.” Ann sighs emphatically. “Look, I’m really sorry, but… can I be frank? What she said about you _really_ worries me. And as your friend, I need to set you straight.” She takes a deep breath, and Ren turns his attention elsewhere, bracing himself for the oncoming storm. “Be honest. Do you love any of the people you date? At all? Or are you just playing with them?”

Ren’s stomach flips. “How could you think that?” he says. “That isn’t me. I wouldn’t…”

“I know, I know. Sorry. I’m just eliminating the possibility.” For her part, she sounds incredibly apologetic, which is enough for him. “She told me you seemed distracted. She kept entertaining the thought that you were cheating on her, or that you lost interest. That isn’t good, Ren. If you were having those feelings months ago, you should have broken it off _then_ , not dragged it out longer.”

“What? But… I spent time with her.” Ren flips the pancake over, not really seeing it. “I never missed a date, and I had no time to see anyone else. Why would she think otherwise?”

Ann seems to think it over. “Sometimes, being with them isn’t enough. Some people want passion, or enthusiasm. A sign that you’re really there, not… somewhere else.”

Ren sighs. The okonomiyaki is about done, so he plates it, one for himself and another for Goro, though he wraps both in plastic and stows it in the fridge. He doesn’t have much of an appetite, anymore. “Yeah, I get it.”

He and Ann talk a little more, primarily about mundane things (Ren managed to convince her to drop the previous topic; it’s been much too long since they last caught up, after all) but the sound of Goro’s key in the lock never comes. It’s nearly midnight by the time she hangs up, and still, no sign of him. Must be another late shift, or something urgent came up on the way home. Exhausted from the call and generally emotionally wrung-out, Ren gives up on waiting, and trudges for the bedroom.

* * *

Morning comes unceremoniously, like a pie to the face. This is due in part to the fact that Morgana is stretched languidly over his neck, a snoring scarf of sorts, and Ren is covered in sweat and cat fur and the bland scent of yesterday’s clothes. He groans, rolling out from underneath Morgana and groping blindly for his glasses. It’s way too bright for a winter morning, and keeping his eyes peeled for more than one second is its own kind of torture, another hitch in his lousy awakening.

Ren yanks off his jacket and pants and exits in just his t-shirt and boxers. He feels like a fish out of water, clumsy and out of his element, and all he can think about is having his morning coffee.

“Good morning,” Goro greets mildly from the kitchen. After everything Ren’s endured, Goro’s appearance is like that of Gabriel’s to Mary, even more so now that Ren can see two steaming mugs of coffee in his hand. “Here you go,” Goro says, handing one to Ren. “It isn’t as good as yours, but I hope these past two years of living together have taught me _something_.” 

Ren resists falling to his knees before him and gratefully accepts the mug. “I’ll take what I can get.” The mug in question is a gag gift Ren received from last year’s white elephant, the text ADDICTED TO POT with the image of a coffee pot printed straight across it. The worst present at the exchange, for sure; naturally, everyone made sure Ren was the one who won it. 

“Hey, Ren.” Goro looks at him, seems to think twice as his expression flits between two different mental states. “Actually, forget it. Thank you for the okonomiyaki.” 

Ren takes a sip; the coffee is about as average as it can get, but that doesn’t mean it’s _bad_. “Yeah, of course. I had time, so…” Startlingly, he finds his mouth dry of his usual smart remark, left floundering for something to fill it. “Uh. I hope you were okay by yourself. I didn’t mean to be gone for so long, it just… happened.”

Goro gives him a wry look. “I was hardly by myself— I had Morgana. But, yes, I managed just fine.” 

They stand in silence for a moment, Ren taking idle sips of his coffee, Goro fitfully rearranging a pot of succulents on the counter. He wonders if Goro has him figured out; though the Detective Prince persona was a farce, his wit never lied, and Ren and Goro are alike enough that it’s difficult to hide anything for long. But if Goro has clued in on it, his face betrays nothing. “Could you help with groceries today?” he says instead, perfectly casual, and then jokes, “You owe me some of your time, after all.”

Ren shrugs. “Sounds easy enough.” Even though it doesn’t. Goro’s requests are never the light kind, and he has reason to believe Goro has it out for him after his sudden disappearing act. 

“Cancel whatever plans you had for today, also,” Goro adds, and, yeah, that confirms his suspicions. “There’s something else I need you to help me with.” 

“Pushy.” Ren pouts. “But, fine. It’s not like I had other things to do, anyway.” 

“Good.” Goro grins wide, teeth sharp, but its edges soften, somehow, in a way that Ren can’t fathom. Then he walks past Ren to grab his things, saying over his shoulder, “Now go put on some pants.”

Shoving into the nearest pair of sweats he can find, Ren stumbles after Goro, only half-bothering to make himself look presentable with his favorite hairbrush (his fingers) and slapping the sleep from his face. Goro’s not walking ahead; he seems content to walk at Ren’s side, which is… not unusual, they’re friends and all, but he has a terrible habit to rush things and make any displeasure known through passive aggression, or just straight up aggression. He exhibits neither, miraculously enough. 

That’s a good sign, right? Ren expected the cold shoulder, maybe even the silent treatment, but Goro’s talking up a storm as they make the trip to a nearby konbini, like Ren hadn’t been absent at all, like he hadn’t ignored his friends for three days straight. It’s so small, probably unintentional, too— Goro enjoys the sound of his own voice whether or not Ren is an active part of the exchange— but Ren appreciates him all the same. 

“There’s a few things I want,” Goro says, and then begins listing off an impressive list of groceries that Ren retains none of. Having prepared for this, Goro sends him the list on his phone. 

“What is all this stuff for, anyway?” Ren balks, noting the incongruence between “top coat nail polish” and “cookie dough”. “We’ll probably have to visit a few other stores to complete this list.”

“Fine by me.” Goro’s already rooting through the cosmetics section and knocking several products down from their displays into a basket. Ren watches for a moment, baffled by his carelessness, until Goro says, “Well? What are you waiting for? We don’t have all day.” 

Sufficiently provoked, Ren gets to work. Shopping with Goro is a little bit like being a draft horse, Ren delegated to carrying both baskets while Goro tosses items in and barks at him, so Ren slaps him on the ass once and Goro is silent for the rest of the trip. Red in the face, too, which is a marvel— and something Ren should analyze in detail later. 

“That’s all of it,” Ren says, three hours later, setting their things down at the doorway of their apartment. Goro smiles brightly and pats him on the shoulder. 

“You did well. Go ahead and unpack what you can— I need to check on something.” 

Typical Goro behavior, leaving with only a cryptic explanation of his intent. Surveying their haul which consists of a miscellany of beauty products, home goods, and cavity-inducing snacks, Ren thinks he deserves at least a hint. 

“C’mon, Goro, we don’t need half this stuff,” he says, unboxing an assortment of scented candles and giving each an appraising sniff. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on or not?” Cinnamon, vanilla chai latte, salted caramel. His ex liked salted caramel. He should sneak that away to Ann when Goro isn’t looking. 

Goro exits from the hallway carrying a blanket. “In time,” he answers vaguely, dumping the blanket on the living room carpet. Ren assumes he intends to fold it— except, he comes back with another blanket, and then another, and another. He leaves them crumpled on the floor, a complete betrayal of everything Goro has ever preached, and Ren can only take so much whiplash in one day. 

“Hey.” He points at the steadily-growing pile of blankets. “This is not normal.”

A heavy sigh from Goro. “Have you seriously not figured it out yet?” 

Ren blinks at him. Blinks twice. 

“We’re having a sleepover.”

Ren needs a moment to process this. “… In our living room?”

“In our living room.” 

A smile tugs at Ren’s lips, unbidden, and the sound of his own laughter comes as a pleasant surprise. “What brought this on? This isn’t like you.” He watches dread cross Goro’s face, followed by resignation; Ren quickly intervenes, “I’m not complaining! It’s a fun idea.” 

Though Goro looks no less annoyed, relief is palpable in the square of his shoulders. “I never had the opportunity for this as a kid, so I figured I should start somewhere.” He looks at Ren, who still has his nose stuck in a scented candle, and allows himself a tiny grin. “Sorry if this seems childish. If you don’t want to partake, I understand.”

“I do. I’m serious.” He looks resolutely at Goro, so he won’t mistake his meaning. When Goro looks away first, Ren drops his gaze to the blankets. “I don’t think we’ll need that many blankets, though.” 

Goro laughs. “It’s not— it’s for a blanket fort.” He blushes as he says this, hands fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt. 

All of a sudden Ren understands the contents of their groceries— the glittery nail polish, the face masks, the pre-baked sweets. He must have read a dozen articles and watched corny teen movies for an idea of where to start, and it’s so unbearably _innocent_ that Ren can hardly suppress a smile, covering his mouth for fear he might even giggle.

“You’re… unbelievable,” Ren manages, between stifled snorts. “Wow.”

Goro glares at him. “Well? Are you in or not?”

“Of course I’m in.” Ren feels a few degrees warmer where the breakup left him cold, the frozen tension in his heart relaxing like a gently-unraveled ribbon. This, at least, he hasn’t failed; Goro will want him around whether or not he’s a royal mess, because Goro is a royal mess, too, and birds of a feather flock together or whatever. “I’m honored, actually. That you want to share something like this with me.” 

Goro is very carefully looking everywhere but him. “I can see the value in spending some quality male time together.”

“ _Quality male time?”_ Ren chokes. “Who taught you that, Ryuji?”

Goro tosses a pillow at him. “Shut up and help me build this blanket fort.” 

And so, Ren abandons the groceries and shuffles over, helping Goro pin the blankets from shelf to window to couch and so on, leaving an open space for the TV. The repetitive motions distract him, inspire a single-minded focus that relies purely on physicality— something Ren is familiar with, and comfortable employing. Goro, better suited for words, uses the silence to speak into.

“The past few days haven’t been very eventful,” he says, arranging the futon so that it’s perfectly parallel on the carpet. “I’ve been swamped with homework, and all Morgana does is watch the news.”

Morgana, passed out on the cat tower and unable to defend himself, snores obliviously. Ren reaches over and scratches him between the ears.

“I tried once or twice to make dinner on my own, but… well.” Goro winces. “Let’s just say your okonomiyaki was the best thing I’ve tasted all week. Ugh, I ought to invest in a nutrition course or something… microwaved meals for both dinner and lunch probably aren’t good for my complexion.” 

“It looks fine to me,” Ren says, giving Goro’s cheek a hearty pinch. 

Goro scowls. “That’s because I have a nightly six-step routine which, by the way, if I miss once, will cost me all my delicate skin cells. You get five hours of sleep and your skin is as clear as a baby’s.”

Ren just shrugs. “Sounds like a you problem.”

“You could at least stand to be more proud of it,” Goro grumbles, exiting the newly-made fort with a huff. “Otherwise there’s no reason for you to have such a useful and widely-desired trait.”

Ren follows after him to examine their handiwork; the Featherman blanket Futaba gifted Goro for Christmas acts as the entrance, with two throw blankets comprising the walls. Ren’s own blanket represents the ceiling, a thick, fleece cover that blots out any light from the window. As it stands, it’s nearly evening; the sun will soon fade from the sky, and the fairy lights Ann instated months ago (“For better Insta pictures, you see,” she said with a wink) will be left to illuminate the fort. 

“I have a couple things planned,” Goro says conversationally, while Ren busies himself with taking photos of their creation, “but feel free to rearrange the schedule at your leisure. First, I suggest we make use of the frozen cookie dough, which will take roughly twenty minutes to bake—”

“Hold on, Goro.” Ren pokes him. Goro clamps his mouth shut. “I know you like making lists and stuff, but shouldn’t we go at our own pace? It’s a sleepover, not a dinner party.”

Goro’s brows twitch, but with a sigh, he concedes, leaning primly against the kitchen counter. “If you say so, Ren. Then… what do you propose we do?”

Ren hums thoughtfully. “Well, the cookies sound like a good start. Let’s go from there.” 

He guides Goro into the kitchen to fetch the cookies while he preheats the oven, removes the pan and fishes out other relevant materials from their cupboard. Goro has the cookies laid out on the parchment paper and looks sort of miserably at them, like they’re dead specimen under a microscope, or Ren’s cat-themed boxers he found in the laundry basket once. 

Ren peeks over to check on him. “Goro. What’s the matter?”

Goro doesn’t move. “What if I mess this up?”

Oh my god. “There’s no way even _you_ can mess this up. Look, they shaped the cookies for you and everything. Just space them out evenly and you’re good.”

Tentatively, his brows pinching ever-so-slightly, Goro starts to line up the cookies on the sheet. It’s an absurd amount of concentration for handling boxed cookie dough, but it’s just like Goro to put his everything into simple tasks like these, and ultimately what makes him so lovable. Ren doesn’t realize he’s smiling until his cheeks begin to ache from the strain. 

They manage to hustle the cookies into the oven without much incident, and, cookies taken care of, they take to the blanket fort. Ren puts on a movie while Goro fumbles with their grocery bags; he soon emerges with a wide array of nail polish, ranging from matte to glitter to metallic. Ren picks a brilliant red shade, ignoring Goro’s protests of “I was going to pick that!” and handing him a glittery gold instead.

“This suits you better,” he says, and something about the comment makes Goro flush. He trades his nail polish with Goro’s and holds his hand out, palm down and fingers splayed. “Do me first.”

Goro rolls his eyes, but takes a firm grasp of Ren’s hand. The touch isn’t odd so much as it is unfamiliar— the rough calluses, the cool, dry skin, all of these are things that Ren feels when he hands Goro his coffee or receives a touch on the arm when Goro asks for something but it’s never this _direct_. Never lingering, either, like it means to leave an impression on him.

“Just a fair warning, I’ve never done this before.” Goro uncaps the nail polish and wipes the excess liquid on the rim. “I’ve only watched Ann try it on me and herself, and she’s… chaotic, to put it lightly.”

“It’s fine. Nothing we can’t fix.” Ren watches Goro from underneath his eyelashes, his furrowed brow and the teeth worrying his lip. The movie plays on innocently in the background, some thriller that was on the first page of Netflix, but Ren isn’t paying attention, fixated on Goro’s touch, his face, unguarded like it tends to be nowadays, but the novelty has yet to fade. Ren hesitates to call the sight a miracle; the prize of Goro’s complete and utter trust came only with dedication, blood and sweat and tears that scarred— not any old blessing. It’s a reward, hard-earned and well-deserved, something Ren never takes for granted. Still, it does nothing to stop the awe, the incredulity that floods in at times like this. Somehow, absurdly, Goro trusts _him._ Finds a friend, a confidant in _him._

“What’s that look for?”

Ren sputters dumbly. He was being watched, too? “Wh… what look?” he stammers.

Goro doesn’t meet his eye, muttering, “You were smiling.”

“Oh.” Ren’s face feels hot. He didn’t even realize. “Nothing. It’s just…” He doesn’t think Goro would take the truth well, never mind their self-proclaimed closeness. He diverts: “Did Ann tell you?”

Still won’t look at him. “Tell me what?”

“You know. About… my girlfriend.”

 _That_ gets Goro to stop, hands stalling on where they were painting Ren’s ring finger. He looks up at Ren with mute shock, jaw flexing, and then lowers his gaze with uncharacteristic meekness. “Sorry.”

“Hey, I’m not mad.” Ren puts his free hand on top of Goro’s. It twitches beneath the contact, frozen in place as Ren runs his thumb across the smooth skin. “You always seem to figure it out, anyway. So was all this,” he gestures at the blanket fort, “planned, or… ?”

Goro sighs in defeat. “I didn’t know what else to do. It’s ineffective, I realize, but—”

“Don’t say that.” Ren squeezes his hand, swallowing a weary sigh of his own. He casts his gaze around the room; the sun is just beginning to set, washing everything in a sluggish red-orange. They ought to turn on the fairy lights after this, but for now, in the dim glow of the sun, Ren sees all that he needs to. “Just being near you is enough. We’re friends, you know?”

At this point, Goro is redder than Ren’s nail polish. “I… is that so?”

“Mhm.” He lets go of Goro’s hand, allowing him to continue with his work. Stiltedly, Goro does— but only as a streak of red trails down just outside of his nail does Ren notice how Goro’s grip trembles.

In the silence that follows, Goro manages to complete one hand, moving on to the next. His newfound familiarity with the process helps move it along faster, and in no time at all, he finishes painting the last nail. He takes a napkin and dabs up any stray nail polish left by clumsy strokes, eyes soft and touch even softer. It makes Ren’s heart do all sorts of weird, nervous jumps. 

“I know you’re not asking for much,” Goro says at last, sliding his hand out of Ren’s and leaving an empty cold in its wake, “but… I want to offer more, if you’ll let me. A listening ear, if nothing else.”

Ren swallows. He doesn’t usually talk about it with Goro; he doesn’t usually talk about it with anyone. Whatever Ann manages to squeeze out of him only scratches the surface, and the thought of baring any more terrifies him. But Goro, Goro has shown him _everything_ — has crawled through rock bottom reaching for Ren’s hand, bleeding and scrabbling for the promise of it, and isn’t it only fair, to let Goro proffer his hand in return?

“… You already know most of it,” Ren says quietly, spreading his fingers apart to admire the way the TV reflects in his nails. Goro leans forward, awaiting more, and Ren fiddles with a hangnail so he won’t have to look at him. “I’ve been in a few relationships since we first moved in together. Some even before then. Neither worked out, neither lasted for more than a year.” 

Goro says nothing, which Ren takes as his cue to continue. “I thought this one would be the one. She was happy with me, or at least I thought she was. But…”

Goro raises his brow. “But?”

“… I don’t know.” Ren rips out the hangnail, leaving behind a rapidly-reddening mark. “Something changed, and I guess she got tired of me. All of them do, eventually.”

Goro hums, seems to be turning it over in his head before he says, “What about you?”

Ren bristles. “Huh?”

“How did you feel about her?”

A stupid question. Ren loved her— didn’t he? They were together, so it’s the obvious answer. Goro, as if recognizing its futility, rephrases the question: “Did you get tired of her, too?”

Ren is at a loss. “I… I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know?”

“Well…” Ren watches the wound left by the hangnail start to bleed, gleaming nearly as red as the red of his nails. “It’s so much easier to know others’ feelings. Harder to know your own. I knew my girlfriend wasn’t happy with me, so I broke up with her. It wasn’t for my own sake. I don’t know what _would_ be. I just… went with it.” He slumps his shoulders with a sigh. “I wonder if I’m just not meant for love.” 

Goro snorts. Ren snaps his gaze toward him, bewildered at the noise, but the smile hasn’t left Goro’s face. _“You_ aren’t meant for love? Really. _You._ The man who can get anyone within speaking distance to devote their lives to him. No, that definitely isn’t it.” His smile falters, turns contemplative all of a sudden. 

Ren looks worriedly at him. “Goro?”

“… You know, I once thought the same of myself.” He turns his face away, shame evident in his voice. “God. I despised you. I despised the _world_. At times, it felt like resentment was all I knew. I would die without ever knowing anything else. And then, you came into my life and… and I learned my heart was capable of more.” At that, a scoffing laugh, eyes lidding as if reliving the memory in his head. “It’s thanks to you that I can love. So cut yourself some slack, okay, Joker?”

The name evokes a rush of feelings, both old and new, and his breath spills out of him like it’s made of heavy rocks. “Goro… “

“Even if you decide to give up on… romance,” Goro says the word “romance” with an inordinate amount of difficulty, “you have the love of your family, your friends behind you. You have me.” He blushes at that last part, and Ren notes with distant fascination that this is the most Goro has blushed in one day, which is a slightly uncomfortable realization but mostly endearing. “You were there for me at my lowest. As much as I may fumble with it, I want to be there for you, too. So… please. Don’t run away from me.”

It’s all at once too much, and with a desperation unknown to him, Ren pitches forward, crushing Goro in a tight hug. Goro squeaks at the force of it, arms hovering with no idea where to rest, until they settle lightly on Ren’s shoulders. 

“Your nails,” is all Goro can choke out. “They… they haven’t dried.”

Ren buries his nose into the crook of Goro’s neck. “I know.”

“Ren, if you get nail polish on my shirt, I will put salt in your coffee tomorrow morning.”

Ren laughs, blinking away happy tears. “Not if I get to yours first.”

Goro doesn’t grace that with a response, but he finally, finally, melts into the embrace, tilting his head against Ren’s temple. Ren can’t remember the last time he was held like this; usually it was Goro who needed to be held, be it from nightmares or simply the reassurance that he was not alone, but days like that are a bygone era. Or, _were_ a bygone era. It seems Ren still has skeletons of his own he needs to air out, and a friend to stay at his side all the while. 

As Ren closes his eyes, relishes the cool scent of Goro’s shampoo, the oven beeps once, twice. Goro shifts a little, whispers into Ren’s ear: “The cookies are ready.”

Ren hums an acknowledgement. “Yeah.”

“Shouldn’t we get them?” 

Ren nuzzles Goro’s shirt. “Don’t wanna move.”

“You big baby.” It’s said with begrudging fondness, and Goro’s hands slip underneath his armpits to lift him up, place him atop the futon like an unruly pet. “I’ll go fetch the cookies. Don’t do anything weird.”

Ren grumbles under his breath, sinking into the pillows with a pout. Maybe it’s pathetic, but he misses Goro’s warmth, how natural it felt against him. Is it so odd to think that way toward a friend? Though “friend” feels like a woefully inefficient term for the bond they share, forged literally by a god and reinforced through that god’s death. Brothers feels closer, but it doesn’t quite capture the facets, the nuance— 

“Are you okay?” The voice makes Ren jolt, and Morgana’s weight presses down on his stomach like an oversized seatbelt. “Why the heck are all our blankets strung up? And what’s with your nails?” 

“It’s called a blanket fort,” Goro says in Ren’s stead, entering the fort with a plateful of chocolate chip cookies. His eyes flit from Morgana to Ren, immediately brightening at the sight of him, and he hands Ren a cookie which is soft and moist to the touch. “It’s very sweet. Try it.” 

Morgana sulks as Ren ventures a bite. “That’s not fair. You _know_ I can’t eat chocolate.”

“I’m sure you’ll find something for you if you look through the fridge,” Goro teases, singsong, and Morgana perks up for all of two seconds before his ears flatten pitifully against his head.

“Nice try, but I can’t open the fridge by myself, you jerk!”

“Hmm. That’s a shame.” Goro settles in next to Ren, appearing to have no intentions of moving, and it only makes Morgana’s protests louder. Ren laughs as they bicker, leaning a bit into Goro’s shoulder to properly enjoy its warmth. The TV is still droning on and on; Ren is at a loss as to what’s happening, too lazy to really figure it out, while Goro is much the opposite. He manages to deduce the plot within ten minutes and makes offhand comments about the cinematography, which is business as usual. 

The rest of the evening passes in a pleasant haze. Cookies and later ice cream are consumed by the two men as they finish up the movie, followed by coffee. Goro allows Ren to paint his nails with the gaudy gold he picked out earlier, recounting an awful group project escapade while Ren snickers at each scathing remark. At some point, the calming scent of cinnamon drifting from a lit candle, Goro and Ren recline against the futon, lying an appropriate distance away from each other. The fairy lights are on, the fort bathed in their radiance, and their reflection in Goro’s eyes gives them a distant sparkle.

“What?” Goro croaks, all half-lidded eyes and tousled hair. He sounds tired, albeit the mellow kind, the one that promises good dreams and inner healing. “You’ve been staring an awful lot today. It’s creepy.” 

Ren, his cheek propped up on one elbow, blows a raspberry at him. “I think most people would be flattered to be stared at by me.” 

Goro just blinks. “I’m not most people.” But he stares back, anyway, as if it’s a challenge of some sort. Ren isn’t easily intimidated, has stared shadows down the barrel of a gun, but there’s a sense of oppression where Goro’s eyes meet his own, slightly reminiscent of his old power. The corner of his lips quirk up at the thought; so much about Goro has changed since then. Barefaced, hair a mess, dressed in corny pajamas, he’s the polar opposite of the prince persona he once projected, but the charm and finesse are still there— only this time, in a different flavor. He’s beautiful like this, Ren thinks.

Beautiful. 

For a moment, all of Ren’s mental faculties just… falter. Then they rewire, kick into gear, his thoughts pulled through a filter until one thing, one idea, stands out against the rest of them, and Ren’s heart feels like it’s been torn out of his body and shoved down his throat for him to swallow like a pill. 

Oh. _Oh._

But no— no, that can’t be it. That would be… beyond awkward, and stupid of him to miss. Such an obvious conclusion, and how could he not notice it?

“ _It’s so much easier to know others’ feelings,”_ he said. _“Harder to know your own.”_

Ah. 

“Hey, Ren,” Goro says after a moment, his lips barely moving with how quietly he speaks. But to Ren, his voice is gunfire in a chamber, a bullet through the brain. “… Thank you. For today.”

Ren is baffled that he’s receiving any thanks at all. “Shouldn’t I be the one saying that?”

Goro scoffs, sliding further beneath his blankets. “It makes no difference to me. But… you indulged my whims, silly as they were. And you were open with me. You didn’t have to do that. So… thanks.” 

Ren shakes his head. “It’s nothing. Really, you’re…” He rifles through his mental dictionary for something safe. “… important to me. So you deserved to know.” Is that too much, or not enough? There’s no shortage of words to describe how he feels about Goro Akechi, and yet if he says the wrong thing… 

Goro flicks him on the forehead, derailing that train of thought. “You’re stupid.” He smiles bashfully. “And you’re important to me, too.”

And that’s that. After some back-and-forth, the candle is blown, the lights go out, and Goro falls into a heavy slumber. Ren can hear his steady breaths as he sleeps, in, out, in, out. Ren gazes up at the ceiling and he thinks, and he thinks, and he thinks.

The sun rises; Goro wakes, and Ren dreams.

* * *

Ren needs time.

Time turns out to be two weeks, and in those two weeks he’s cramming assignments in-between shifts at Leblanc and meetups with old friends. Socialization does wonders for healing a broken heart, but the progress means next to nothing when his stomach still tosses and turns at the sight of Goro. He still thinks about that day. He hasn’t been able to stop since. 

_You’re important to me, too._

Here’s the rub. Ren jokes about their closeness often— things along the lines of _I would date you, if only I liked men_ , and Goro would respond in kind, flirt with the biting sarcasm only he could make charming. It never meant anything, or at least to Ren it didn’t.

Or so he thought.

The thing is, he doesn’t want to compromise what they have together. They worked so hard for it, dedicated hours and days and weeks to mend what was broken, and what would Ren’s feelings cause? More distance, another reason to walk on eggshells around each other? That day, sleeping side-by-side in the living room, Ren desperately hoped that his hunch was just that— a hunch. A thought-provoking, but ultimately far-fetched possibility. But as days went on, Ren saw more of Goro, and saw more of himself in turn. 

“Let me get this straight,” Ann said to him, when he called her that week in a fit of panic. “You think you’re _not_ straight? Like, gay?”

“Bisexual, maybe? I don’t know, I don’t know what to think—”

“Just take a moment to digest,” Ann offered, and, giving him no time to digest, said, “You only realized this after your breakup? Wow, that’s kind of weird.” 

Ren sighed exasperatedly at that. “You think I don’t know that?” But her words prompted him to think, and after restless nights of contemplation, he started to suspect that maybe, just maybe, those girls were a way to fill a Goro-shaped void. Fear of confronting his feelings, fear of scaring off Goro, a crippling loneliness and intrinsic need for companionship. The list goes on, and on.

It says something that it took him three years to figure it out. Ren can barely stand to examine his feelings in private; how can he bear revealing them to someone else? But Goro’s words from the sleepover come back with distressing clarity: _don’t run away from me._ And Ren thinks that he couldn’t, even if he tried. 

Because Goro is way too perceptive for his own good, and tonight he watches Ren come home from an evening shift and says, foregoing pleasantries, “Something is wrong with you.”

Ren scrunches his nose up. “Hello to you, too?” 

“Ryuji says you haven’t been going to game night,” Goro accuses, eyeing Ren from his spot on the couch. Despite his dry tone, worry swims in his eyes, and the frown on his face lacks its usual cynical sharpness. “You only do that when there’s an upcoming exam, which there isn’t, or if you have an important social obligation. Don’t tell me you went off and found another girlfriend.”

The accusation annoys Ren, but it secretly warms his heart that Goro went out of his way to find out such a small detail. “Of course I didn’t. Actually… about that.” He scratches at his cheek. “There’s something… that is, could you lend me an ear for a moment?” 

Goro seems startled, like he didn’t expect Ren to confide in him after their sleepover heart-to-heart. It melts into relief, however, as he pats the spot next to him with almost childish alacrity. “Come sit, then. Should I be worried, or is this a trivial matter?” 

Always trying to gauge the situation before it happens. How very like him. “It depends on you, I suppose.” He takes a seat next to Goro, and the proximity already has his mind reeling with doubt. He can’t do this. He _can._ He’s _Joker,_ he’s seen the heart of the world and all of its atrocities, and this is nothing in comparison. Right?

A long moment elapses before Ren turns to Goro, whose face is kept carefully blank. “Do you promise not to judge me?” he whispers, and Goro looks at him as if he’s grown two heads.

“Whatever it is, it’s surely not as bad as anything I’ve ever seen or done.” 

Fair point. Ren glances to the side. Morgana is absent, probably watching TV dramas in Ren’s bedroom, and Goro’s homework is spread out over the coffee table. He was probably chipping away at it before tonight, Ren muses. Strangely enough, Goro isn’t pushing, isn’t probing; Ren can tell he is exercising an astronomical amount of patience, saying nothing but his finger tapping a restless rhythm against his thigh, body shifting every three seconds. Ren should say something. Anything, even if it’s— 

“I think I like boys.”

Goro’s finger stops tapping.

Ren searches his face for a hint, for any indication of a reaction, but there’s none. No surprise, no disgust, nothing. Ren prides himself on being able to read Goro’s expressions, but this is on a new level. Like trying to read a clock with no hands, a book with no words.

“You’re not… weirded out, right?” Ren ventures, pinpricks of fear tickling his every nerve.

“Weirded out?” And there, a touch of disbelief, Goro’s eyes finally flashing with something akin to pain. “How could I be weirded out? Ren, do you think so little of me?” 

“No, I…” Ren gulps thickly. He doesn’t like the disappointment settling in his gut, the thought that he wasn’t immediately met with joy. “It’s just, you never know, and I… I wanted to be sure. I’m sorry.” 

Goro shakes his head. “No— _I_ should be sorry. Maybe I should have reacted better.” He breathes out a laugh, the kind that cracks at the edges and makes it sound brittle. “You just caught me by surprise, that’s all. I promise I’m not weirded out.” Then he looks down at his feet. Sighing once, Goro glances sidelong at Ren, eyes partly shadowed by his bangs. “If it makes you feel any better, I like men as well. And I’m sure there are many in our group who aren’t straight, either.”

For some reason, the information doesn’t surprise him— something about Goro screams the fact, though Ren doesn’t know how much of that is hindsight bias or his own hope. “Thank you, Goro.” He prays he’s not blushing. A lost cause, evidently; he can feel the heat on his face, so hot it could grill meat. “Um… if you don’t mind, how long have you known?” 

“That I was gay? Well,” Goro stares up at the ceiling, “maybe since high school.”

Ren tilts his head. “When in high school?”

“Not important.” Goro says this with finality, hand waving as if to chase the words from the air. “In any case… you seem to have only figured out for yourself fairly recently.”

“After my breakup,” Ren clarifies, slightly sheepish to admit it. “I realized that our relationship was partly out of obligation. She liked me, and I was attracted to her, enough that I stuck around… but I guess I never really loved her. To be honest, I don’t think I ever knew what ‘love’ entailed, not until…”

 _Until you_ , he almost says.

“Until when?” Goro prompts, almost eager in the way he leans forward. He looks ridiculously kissable, eyes wide with something that _could_ be hope, but what is there to hope for? Is it Ren, filling in the blanks the way he wants it to be, or is it Goro’s own desire? There’s an itch buried beneath his skin, begging for some measure of relief, and his mind says Goro is both the salve and the irritant, the victory and the loss, the end and the beginning. He wants to throw himself into it, burn away for good. 

Fuck. Time for a change of plans, then. 

“Can I try something?” Ren says instead, and this catches Goro off-guard, his eyes losing some of their bright insistence. He looks scared, a look Ren is never happy to associate with Goro.

“… Okay.” Goro’s mouth pulls tight. “Go ahead.” 

Ren’s breath gushes out of him, hunger filling the space it left in his chest. 

“Thank you.” 

He scoots forward, their thighs brushing lightly together. Goro stays eerily still. Ren keeps his movements slow and steady, anticipating refusal, any sign that Goro is not as into it as he thinks; his hand lifts, rests on Goro’s cheek, and Goro shakes, his hands curled into fists at his side. And then Ren leans forward and closes the distance between them and suddenly, it’s real. It’s everything.

Goro’s lips move against his, soft and wet. A sound is building at the back of his throat, half a note between pleasure and desperation, and his fingers curl around Ren’s hand on his cheek, sending heat down Ren’s every vein. It’s nothing like he’s ever felt before— it’s something he wouldn’t trade for the world. As if some deep part of him has unlocked to fill the ravenous hole in his heart, its need finally satiated, finally completed. Finally itself. 

Ren sighs in happiness. Goro pushes against the hand on his cheek, guiding Ren down into the couch and tangling their fingers together, perfectly fitted. Ren’s past kisses were mostly methodical: apply pressure, use your tongue, bite if it’s allowed. But Goro’s kiss— all-consuming and charged with such longing it robs Ren of breath— leaves no room for self-consciousness, and Ren knows it wouldn’t matter anyway; he has never felt more comfortable, more sure that this is where he’s meant to belong. 

And then the touch is gone.

Ren opens his eyes, blinking away the daze. Goro’s face is flushed, hair hanging like a curtain over them, shielding them from the outside world. He looks positively wrecked, and his voice is no better when he says, “What is this supposed to mean?” 

Ren stares dumbly at him. “Huh?”

“Are you mocking me?” Goro’s voice is a mere whisper, his breath against Ren’s cheek making him shiver. “You knew all along. How I felt for you. And you mean to dangle it in my face?” 

“No,” Ren breathes, confused, cradling Goro’s cheek, and despite the lost fury in his gaze he leans into it imperceptibly, “no, of course not. You have feelings for me?” 

Goro scoffs. He’s embarrassed. “You must be blind if it took you this long to figure it out.”

“How could I?” Ren laughs, light and airy. “I couldn’t even figure out I liked boys.” 

That pulls a laugh from Goro’s lips, and together they fall into mirth, soft and breathless and so incredibly _happy._ Goro brushes the hair from Ren’s eyes; Ren presses a kiss to his palm, then down to his wrist. Goro says, “You can’t possibly be sure,” and his eyes are glazed over with want. But the words are sad, his touch is unsure, and Ren feels cold where the hand on his cheek drifts away. “How do I know you’re not just using me? Ren, I will not be a rebound for you.” 

Ren averts his gaze, abashed. He didn’t consider that.

“I want this,” Goro says, running his hands down Ren’s side. “I want _you._ But not like this.”

“I know,” Ren murmurs, finding his lips again, “I know.” The kiss is slower this time, more indulgent. Ren pulls away, keeping his grip on the back of Goro’s neck to ensure there is no means of escape. “We can go on as friends, for now. But… when I’m ready, I’ll ask you out for real, and we’ll be proper boyfriends. Is that a deal?”

Goro cracks a grin. “… You sound so sure of the result. But very well. I’ve no reason to deny you.” He sits up and pulls Ren with him. One of his hands travels down, shyly nudging at Ren’s, and Ren takes the initiative in entwining their fingers. “I’ll wait years for you, if that’s what it takes. But I hope you’re positive about this. I’m not the easiest to love.”

“It won’t take years,” Ren says, grimacing at the notion. “But yes, I’m sure about this. No matter the circumstance, you’ll always be important to me, friends or lovers.” He raises his free hand to run through Goro’s hair, delighting in how soft it is. “Can I have one more kiss?”

“You don’t even need to ask,” Goro says, and with a tug pulls Ren flush against him.

* * *

Two months later, Tokyo is at the cusp of spring; Valentine’s Day is around the corner, and the florist is busier than ever. Ren navigates the mass of people around the store to order a simple bouquet, just enough to convey his meaning, and jogs all the way to his apartment. There’s cake that needs to be made, coffee that needs to be brewed, and no time to dilly-dally. 

But Goro answers the door, and it’s already a step failed— he wasn’t supposed to be back until evening. Ren needed the kitchen to be empty in order to enact the rest of his plan, but alas. “What is that you’re holding?” Goro asks, a half-smirk on his lips, and Ren blows out a huff.

“No point in hiding now.” He thrusts the bouquet into Goro’s arms. “For you.”

“Eloquent as always,” Goro murmurs, but his displeasure is a farce; Ren can see the beginnings of a blush touching his cheeks. “Am I supposed to take this as your final decision?”

“There was going to be cake,” Ren adds, “and coffee, but… you came home early.”

“I’m sorry. Should I just pretend I didn’t see you?”

“I would be lonely. Just help me make them,” Ren says. Then he takes a step closer, their noses brushing, awaiting permission. “… Hey. Can I?” 

Goro gives a melodramatic sigh. “I guess it can’t be helped.” And he drops the bouquet (the _audacity—_ Ren spent money on that!) and loops his arms around Ren’s waist and lifts him. There’s a few seconds of stumbling and startled laughter, Goro blindly maneuvering their apartment with an armful of Ren, and then he drops him on the bed and kisses him, and Ren thinks finally: _I’m home._

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! please leave comments and kudos if you enjoyed <3
> 
> some notes:  
> \- i haven't played p5r so this is three years after vanilla p5 canon! it's never explicitly mentioned though, so it could viably be placed in either universe  
> \- both goro and ren go to the same college, hence their moving in together. yes, this means goro has met and tolerated each of ren's girlfriends throughout those two years in the same apartment, and he has a pretty good idea of how bad ren's luck is with relationships LOL  
> \- whatever they're majoring in is up to you! i'm super indecisive regarding that...
> 
> i post art and random shit on twitter [@nonnecheri](https://twitter.com/nonnecheri)!


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